2
I got the saleratus at Dyersville, and just as I came out of the little
store which was, as I remember it, the only one there, I saw the Gowdy
carriage come down the short street, the horses making an effort to
prance under the skilful management of Pinck Johnson, who occupied the
front seat alone, while Virginia Royall sat in the back seat with
Buckner Gowdy, her arm about the upright of the cover, her left foot
over the side as it might be in case of a person who was ready to jump
out to escape the danger of a runaway, an overturn, or some other peril.
Gowdy did not recognize me, or if he did he did not speak to me. He got
out of the carriage and went first into the store, coming out presently
with some packages in his hand which he tossed to the darky, and then he
joined the crowd of men in front of the saloon across the way. Soon I
saw him go into the gin-mill, the crowd following him, and the noise of
voices grew louder. I had had enough experience with such things to know
pretty well what was going on; the stink of spilled drinks, and
profanity and indecency--there was nothing in them to toll me in from
the flowery prairie.
As I passed the carriage Virginia nodded to me; and looking at her I saw
that she was pale and tremulous, with a look in her eyes like that of a
crazy man I once knew who imagined that he was being followed by enemies
who meant to kill him. There is no word for it but a hunted look.
She came to my wagon, pretty soon, and surprised me by touching my arm
as I was about to start on so as to make a few more miles before
camping.
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